


Have You Seen My Hoodie?

by l0st1nw0nd3rland



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Oblivious Harry, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:35:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27197905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/l0st1nw0nd3rland/pseuds/l0st1nw0nd3rland
Summary: Harry's favourite hoodie seems to go missing a lot... Does Draco know where it is?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 251





	Have You Seen My Hoodie?

**Author's Note:**

> This based on a prompt from tumblr I found an absolute age ago and thought it'd translate really well into a Drarry fic.
> 
> This is my very first Drarry fic, so I hope you enjoy!

“Have you seen my hoodie?”

Harry was rooting around his and Malfoy’s shared dorm room, which was not a sentence he’d ever thought he'd say. Professor McGonagall, in all her wisdom, had decided to promote inter house unity between the returning eighth years by pairing each of them with someone from a different house. She claimed she’d used a compatibility spell to make sure each person would at least get on with their dorm mate but Harry was really starting to think the spell had actually paired them up with the complete opposite of anything that even remotely resembled compatibility. He avoided his room as much as possible, preferring to stay in the common room or in Ron’s room because Zabini was never in there, or even up in the Gryffindor tower with Ginny; yes, her and Harry weren’t romantically involved anymore, but they’d managed to retain their friendship after everything. If anything they had to stay friends, given the fact Harry was still an honorary Weasley and his and Ginny’s circle of friends overlapped in more areas than not.

The Gryffindor was much too overwhelmed with various emotions in the presence of Malfoy to be in the same room as him for very long. Half of him wanted to punch the blonde git right in the pointy face to account for seven years worth of animosity. The other half, however, was a very different story. The part of him that spoke for Malfoy and his mum at their trial and the very, very comfortably (and newly, although really he always had been, and had just finally got the time to actually notice it) bisexual part of him wanted to throw him against the nearest wall and snog that very same pointy face he wanted to punch, off.

Harry was having a considerably difficult time battling between the two. Things became increasingly hard to deal with when they were in the same room. 

“Of course not, why would I have seen that ratty, plebeian, down right _offensive_ thing?” Malfoy sneered, sat on his bed with some potions book in his lap.

Harry hardly saw Malfoy without his nose in a book these days. He was becoming as studious as Hermione. Or, maybe he always had been and Harry just hadn’t noticed, but there were very few things Harry hadn’t noticed about Malfoy over their years at Hogwarts.

“I don’t know, maybe because the last time I saw it, it was in here and I don’t think you ever leave this room until you absolutely have to?” Harry bit back, still rifling through his trunk.

Malfoy scoffed, “as if I take note of your belongings, Potter. You aren’t nearly important enough for that.”

“Forgive me for forgetting you’re not a decent human being Malfoy, I’ll remember not to bother next time.”

“Good.”

Finally, at the bottom of his trunk, Harry found the item: an oversized maroon hoodie. Although was incredibly muggle, it had always reminded him of his Gryffindor pride. He’d had Hermione build in warming charms and cushioning charms to the inside fabric so it was the warmest and comfiest thing he owned, despite the fact he’d had it for years.

Tugging it over his head, he walked out the room, making sure to slam the door on the way out. 

“Thanks for nothing, Malfoy.”

***

The next time Harry lost his hoodie, it was a slightly different affair.

Over the course of the first term, the unlikely pair had found a mutual understanding and some might even call them friends. It had taken them weeks, but Harry’s overwhelming urge to punch the blonde git in the face had almost completely subsided. Granted, they still had their moments. Hermione’s urge to befriend Malfoy to discuss his study habits had been a large reason as to why the two were becoming closer. They even studied together sometimes; mostly in larger groups of Gryffindors and Slytherins. It was quite a sight for everyone to see. In all its years, Hogwarts had never seen a horde of red and green working together like what the eighth years were. The pair formed a surprisingly good duo when it came to subjects like Defence and Potions, and no one quite matched the two of them on their duelling skills. Sometimes, though rarely, they even studied alone together in their dorm room. The animosity they had shared for so long had completely dissipated; instead, a feeling of mutual understanding took its place. Harry now knew they were two sides of the same coin, both used as bargaining chips in a war that shouldn’t have been theirs. This had allowed him to see things in a whole new perspective.

He wouldn’t have dared call them friends however: just dorm mates and occasional study partners.

“Merlin, Potter, how often do you lose that bloody thing?”

“Often enough.”

Having already uprooted every item in his already messy trunk, he’d managed to stuff most of the things back in before checking his wardrobe and drawers. With how much mess he was making, it would’ve been difficult for anyone but him to understand why he was having no luck.

Malfoy shook his head, “I still don’t understand why you wear the damn thing. It looks threadbare.” Insults still tumbled out of the blonde’s mouth with an alarming frequency, but Harry knew there was no malicious intent behind them anymore. Their banter was unparalleled.

Harry was down to his last drawer and was praying it was in there. “It’s comfortable, Malfoy, not that you’d know anything about comfort.”

“Fashion is not about comfort, Potter. One simply does not look good in those denim trousers and worn _hooded jacket_ of yours.”

“ _Hoodie_ , Malfoy, say it with me. _Hood-die_ ,” Harry said, elongating the two syllables of the word. He knew he’d never get him to say something as common and muggle as that, but it was fun for him to jest.

“Never, Potter.”

Harry turned to Malfoy, hoodie victoriously clutched in between his fingers--it had been in the last drawer, after all--and grinned.

“See you later, Malfoy.”

***

After the Christmas break, Harry began to lose his hoodie with an alarming frequency and he was starting to get concerned. Malfoy had begun to at least become helpful in his responses, at least, so that was a win. Suspiciously, it always turned up right where he’d said to look, only a day later. Hermione had started to joke that he was the one that was taking it then re-hiding it just as Harry began to look for it.

“Why would he do that, though? What use does my hoodie have to him?” Harry asked, brows furrowed.

Hermione looked him dead in the eyes. “Harry, how often do you see me wearing Ron’s Weasley jumper even though I have my own?”

Ron couldn’t help but grin at his girlfriend when she said this, the arm that was wrapped around her middle squeezing just a little bit tighter.

“Erm, a lot?”

“And why do you think I wear his jumper instead of my own perfectly good one?”

Tilting his head in confusion, Harry struggled to answer the question. “I don’t know, ‘Mione.”

She shook her head, leaning into the warmth of her boyfriend’s body. “It’s because I like to wear Ron’s clothes to remind myself that after all those years of pining we’re finally together. Plus, they smell just like him, just like my Amortentia too, actually, and that gives me a lot of comfort.”

Ron’s grin practically stretched from ear to ear as he heard her say this, and he placed a kiss on Hermione’s forehead, “I like seeing you in my jumper too, ‘Mione, reminds me that you’re mine.”

Harry couldn’t help but smile at his best friend’s display of affection, he was incredibly happy they’d finally admitted their true feelings for each other and somehow he didn’t feel like a third wheel when the three of them spent time together.

But he still didn’t understand what relevance that had to him and Malfoy, and the confused expression didn’t leave his face for even a second.

“Do you not get it, Harry?”

He shook his head slowly, still trying to think about what his best friend actually meant.

“Mate, the ferret face is your Hermione.”

Harry’s jaw dropped. He understood what that meant.

“Ron!” Hermione scolded, sitting up and smacking his arm lightly, “you didn’t quite have to say it like that.”

“Well, it’s not like he was going to understand it any other way.”

Not even beginning to fully comprehend what his two friends were saying, Harry decided to leave the common room to think. He muttered a half hearted goodbye to his friends before leaving and heading to the lake to sit and try and understand his feelings. He felt it best to do things like that alone and in a more quiet place. As he was leaving, he heard Hermione continue to scold Ron and paid it no more care than usual. He’d listened to seven years of it.

Harry sat on the bank of the Great Lake, staring at the small waves that were lapping against the grassy sides. He found the quiet helped him think, and the soft lulling of the water allowed him to compartmentalise and sift through his largely overwhelming thoughts. Everything about Malfoy and the way he made Harry feel was overwhelming.

_Malfoy_? His Hermione? Not likely.

Yes, over the past few months he’d grown increasingly attracted to the bastard, and yes they’d become somewhat friends recently. No one else quite matched him in terms of banter or duelling skill like Malfoy did, and he’d never met anyone get him, or understand the part he’d played during the war like Malfoy did, but they weren’t even on a first name basis yet. Yes, they didn’t sneer or spit each others’ last names like they had during their previous years at Hogwarts, if anything they were almost thrown around playfully now, but still. How could you like someone and only refer to them by their surname? It didn’t seem right to Harry.

“Ha--Potter?” Malfoy asked, correcting himself. Harry might be daft, but he knew the start of his name when he heard it. Looked like Malfoy-- _Draco?_ Harry tried it out--was starting to get over the last names thing.

“Yeah?” Harry looked up, wondering why he was being approached.

Malfoy sat next to him, not even asking for permission beforehand, “the Weasel and Granger said I might find you here.”

Harry turned to face the blonde. “Were you looking for me?”

“Yes, I found this,” Malfoy said, passing him the all too familiar maroon hoodie.

“Thank you.”

Harry wasn’t looking at Malfoy anymore, he couldn’t, not after everything Ron and Hermione had said. Malfoy being there was forcing his mind into an overdrive he couldn’t control. It wasn’t fair of him to not give Harry the time to think. Not that he knew what Harry was doing sitting by the lake, but still. His presence made things nearly impossible.

Because of this, Harry decided to do something stupid. Then again, the majority of his decisions in life so far had been somewhat reckless, and a hoodie and a blonde git wasn’t going to make him stop that now.

“Hermione seems to think it’s your fault my hoodie always goes missing. She thinks you keep nicking it.”

Malfoy’s mouth gaped open like a fish, unsure of what to say next. He opted instead for a small sound, unable to formulate any actual words. “Oh.”

Smiling, Harry liked the fact he’d managed to make the other boy speechless. “It’s fine if you have been stealing it.” Harry was feeling increasingly brave now, using some of that infamous Gryffindor courage he supposedly had an endless supply of.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Potter, what need would I have for your ratty hoodie?”

“Hermione likes to wear Ron’s jumpers because they smell like him.”

“Why is that relevant?”

Harry shook his head, “it’s not, really. Hermione seems to think it is though.” He was desperately attempting to be subtle, thinking it was more in tune with Malfoy’s Slytherin way of dealing with things. It wasn’t something he was usually good at. He was trying so so hard. He’d had enough of the stolen looks and confused feelings. Finally, he was taking matters into his own hands.

“And if I was stealing your hoodie, Potter? What would you do?” Malfoy turned to face him, quirking an eyebrow and staring at him with silver eyes.

Harry stared back at him, not looking away for a second. “I can imagine I’d probably ask you why, because Hermione’s given me some ideas but I’d quite like to hear you say it.”

Bowing his head, Malfoy turned to face the lake, nervous. “You smell like cinnamon and apples, Potter, it’s quite hard to resist,” he muttered, but Harry still heard him.

“You nick my hoodie because it smells good?”

Malfoy shook his head lightly, “I nick your hoodie because it smells like you, Potter, and it’s the closest I’m ever going to get to you.”

“You’re sitting pretty close to me right now.”

Scoffing, the blonde replied. “Don’t be so dense, Potter, I don’t mean like that.”

Harry feigned innocence, not quite believing the other boy felt the same about him. “Then in what way do you mean?”

“Like this,” he said, and then pressed his lips to Harry’s.

After the initial shock subsided, Harry managed to kiss Malfoy back. Really, now that he had his lips on him he thought it best to call him Draco.

Harry was kissing _Malfoy--_ no, _Draco_. Harry was kissing Draco.

Not only that, Harry was really bloody enjoying kissing Draco.

The passion they’d both put into years of bullying equated into one incredibly fiery kiss that had Harry gasping for more. He’d never felt like this kissing anyone before. Hands tangled in Draco’s hair, Harry plunged his tongue into the Slytherin’s mouth. Draco’s long, slender fingers wrapped themselves into Harry’s top, pulling them closer. Their lips moved together quickly, neither of them stopping at any point for air. Harry pulled roughly at Draco’s bottom lip with his teeth, and listened to Draco hiss in response. Draco’s neck arched as Harry kissed and bit his way down it, sucking a love bite or two as he went. Harry wanted to memorise every inch of him.

Breathless, Draco pulled away, lips swollen and eyes sparkling. “Potter…”

“Harry, call me Harry.”

He nodded small, “Harry…”

“I like that,” Harry smiled, “you panting and saying my name.”

A laugh left Draco’s mouth before he could help it. “You can say mine as well if you want.”

“Draco…” Harry trailed off, not sure what to say.

Draco looked at him, silver eyes wide. “Did that… Did that mean anything to you?”

“Yes.”

“And, is there going to be more of that?”

“I hope so.”

Harry wasn’t struggling for words anymore. That kiss had cleared all of his thoughts. He liked Draco Malfoy and would quite like to keep kissing him for all eternity, if he was allowed to. He didn’t care about how others would react, he already had Hermione and Ron’s blessing. He didn’t need anyone else’s.

“I like you, Draco, and I’m really hoping you feel the same way about me because I don’t know how I’m supposed to share a dorm room with you after that without ever doing it again.”

Draco grinned, flashing a row of perfectly straight, pearly white teeth. “I said I wanted to be closer to you, didn’t I?”

“I’m glad we’ve cleared up what you actually meant by that.”

They both looked at each other, silver eyes meeting emerald ones and just laughed at the ridiculousness of the entire situation. They’d been enemies for years, and now they were snogging. That wasn’t the most normal transition people made, then again, there had never been anything normal about the way Harry did things.

“How about we go back up to our dorm room?” Harry asked, standing up and holding his hand out for Draco to take. “I came out here to think and I’ve sorted out everything I needed to think about.”

Draco took the offered hand, letting Harry pull him up and following him to the castle. They passed Ron and Hermione as they walked through the common room and were met with grins from the both of them.

As Harry walked to their room, he knew he was in it for the long haul with Draco, and he wasn’t at all scared about that anymore.

***

“Have you seen my hoodie?”

Two years later, in his own home, Harry was still unable to account for the whereabouts of his clothes.

Harry and Draco had moved into Twelve Grimmauld Place together as soon as they left Hogwarts, both of them wanting a space that was theirs, a place they could make their own and spend as much time together as they wanted in. They’d taken on the challenge of redecorating the ancestral Black family home in between Draco’s potions apprenticeship and Harry’s auror training. The first thing to go was the house-elf heads on the wall, and the second was the shrieking portrait of the matriarch. Both Harry and Draco took a lot of pleasure in blasting her face off the wall. Over the two years they’d lived there so far, they had managed to turn it into a warm, family home, that was a far cry from the dismal, decrepit place that they’d started with.

Draco took as much pleasure in watching his boyfriend root around for his hoodie as what he always had, especially because he always knew exactly where the offending item of clothing was. It didn’t matter that it was normally his fault Harry couldn’t find it. He took more pleasure in wearing the hoodie than what he did watching Harry search for it, so it was a win-win situation for him.

He finally answered his boyfriend, smiling as he did, “definitely not.” 

“You’re wearing it, aren’t you?” Harry didn’t even need to look at his boyfriend lying on their bed with a book in his hand to know the answer.

“Definitely not,” Draco repeated, still grinning.

Pouncing onto their bed, Harry braced his arms either side of Draco, trapping him. He looked down at Draco’s chest, seeing him clad in the maroon hoodie. “Found it,” he whispered, dropping his lips to kiss the man lying in their bed.

It was a soft and gentle kiss, one that was full of love and adoration. The two weren’t the best at declaring their feelings verbally, so they did it physically, pouring all of their feelings into every touch and every kiss.

Draco pulled away just as softly as what he’d lent in. “I can’t help it that your clothes are more comfortable than mine,” he said, turning his focus back to his book.

“I still can’t believe you’d wear something so muggle,” Harry laughed.

“Yes, well, the muggles did get some things right. It’s a miracle they can make things so comfortable without magic.”

Harry nodded, still holding himself on top of his boyfriend. “I did want the hoodie for a reason, as much as I like seeing you in it.”

Furrowing his brows, Draco looked confused as he tried to wrack his brain for the possible reasons Harry would need this one specific item of clothing, despite the fact he knew it was his favourite.

“I left something in the pocket.”

Draco hadn’t noticed something in the large front pocket when he pulled it on or while he’d been sitting in it for hours. “What…?” Draco trailed off puzzled.

Smiling, Harry responded. “Have a look for yourself, you’re wearing it.”

“Okay..” Draco trailed off, still confused until he reached his slender fingers into the large front pocket and pulling out a small, velvet box. “Harry…”

“Open it,” Harry urged.

Draco was breathless as he opened the black box and revealed a silver band with a small emerald set into it. “Harry..” he repeated, unsure of what to say.

Sitting back on the bed, Harry took the box from Draco gently and started to speak.

“Draco, we’ve been together for two years now, and I can’t imagine ever wanting to spend any time with anyone else. Eleven year old me never thought I’d end up with you but I am so, so glad I have. You make me laugh like no one else, you make me smile with every sarcastic comment. I love you more and more each day and I don’t think there are enough words in the English language for me to accurately describe how I feel for you, and if there is then I don’t know them. So, would you do me the honour of becoming my husband? If you say yes I’ll let you keep that hoodie,” Harry tried to joke at the end of his soppy paragraph, deflecting the nerves he was feeling.

The blonde nodded, not able to form actual words and Harry took the initiative to take the ring from the box and slip it onto his now fiance’s finger.

Draco Malfoy was his _fiance_. That had a very nice ring to it.

Harry came to lie next to Draco on their bed, tangling his hand with the one that now had a ring decorating one of the long fingers. They lay there in silence, soaking up each other’s company for a short while. Neither said anything but they didn’t need to.

Finally managing to find some words a while later, Draco asked a question that had started to bother him. “How long did you have that hidden for?”

“Only a day, I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret for any longer than that with how much you like to wear my clothes.”

Draco smiled, ‘I can’t argue with that.”

Harry hummed, smiling at the idea of him marrying the man lying next to him.

“I do love you, you know?”

“I’d hope so given the fact we’re going to get married,” Harry grinned.

“Maybe I just said yes because I like this hoodie.” they both laughed.

Head full of thoughts of their wedding day, Draco closed his eyes. He was happy dreaming away until one horrifying thought crossed his mind.

“Harry… Who on Earth is going to tell my parents?”


End file.
